


A Walk To Remember

by ShadowObsessor01



Series: LTIA: Original Story Concept [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Bullying, F/M, Mild Language, Minor Violence, Religious Conflict
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:55:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24096940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowObsessor01/pseuds/ShadowObsessor01
Summary: “Would you like me to send you an update on Miss Shore's condition?”Clearly that was NOT what young Mr. Hargrove expected to be asked. Pale eyes bored into Anthony's face, searching for truth or deception, jaw moving as the boy chewed on his tongue.“Wouldn't that be a job for her guardian? Why does some hick town principle get updates on her health?” Absent is the normal derision often found in William's voice. Now is a time for cautious prodding and information gathering. With a slight grin, Anthony nodded. There was a brain under the ridiculous mullet.“Normally yes. However, in this case,” grin growing bigger, Anthony relished in the surprise coming “I am Rebekah Shore's legal guardian.”Ah, a youthful upstart reduced to spluttering from wrongfully inhaled air out of surprise. Priceless!
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Rebekah Shore
Series: LTIA: Original Story Concept [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1738561
Comments: 6
Kudos: 3





	A Walk To Remember

Rebekah wasn’t entirely sure what would happen the next time she inevitably ran into Billy Hargrove. They both went to the same high school after all and shared a few classes on top of that. What she didn’t expect was for Billy to not even show up for a week and when he did, looking even worse than the way she had dropped him off: yellow and sickly green bruises peeking out from the edges of his shirt and a slight limp to his regular swaggering gait.

Her fingers twitched to fix and soothe. Rebekah concentrated harder on switching out her books for the next class. Ignoring had always worked before.

That’s what she forced herself to believe.

Ignorance, however, is supremely difficult to achieve when the universe keeps throwing things in her path. Namely two pilot fish known by humans as Tommy and Carol. Rebekah refers to them as pilot fish because they, like their aquatic counterparts, feed off the leftovers from the strongest predator. Last year that had been Steve Harrington. This year they orbit Billy and for some unfathomable reason, he lets them. Rebekah is usually not their normal target but today as she closes her locker door in preparation for heading to class they flank her, Carol on her left and Tommy on her right. An instinctual flinch is barely hidden at their close proximity. Thankfully they miss her reaction, too caught up in their leering sneers and malicious laughter. Unfortunately someone else does and his eyes narrow, ice chips above a deepening scowl.

“There’s been rumors floating on the vine that a certain miss someone has been giving her opinions where they don’t belong.” Carol speaks in a simpering sweet tone that Rebekah knows is supposed to sound seductive and dangerous. All she sounds like is a drug wasted hooker.

“No one wants to hear about how damned they are, Bible Bitch, so I suggest keeping yourself and your ways behind closed doors and not harassing the good folks of the world.” Tommy snarled, pressing himself into her space, trying to force his bigger frame in some Neanderthal attempt at intimidation.

Rebekah found his actions pathetic.

“Look, Timothy and Clarice-“ she prays for forgiveness in the tiny jolt of joy at their indignant spluttering at the incredibly obvious use of wrong names and the tiny bloom of warmth when he laughs “I don’t give a flying fig what your opinion is regarding my beliefs. For or against, I don’t care. If someone approaches and asks a question, I’ll answer. If I overhear a problem and feel led to provide a solution or comfort, it is my prerogative to give what I can.” She’s not shouting, hasn’t raised her voice in anyway that can be construed as confrontational but if there is one thing high school teenagers excel at is sniffing out fights, and this time is no different. Rebekah focuses on her Pharisees and not on the crowd forming and suffocating her with their closeness, not on the sky eyes that see everything she wants hidden.

“My right to my beliefs is written into our country’s Constitution. Your attempts to cow me into keeping silent is both juvenile and unconstitutional. In these times, I’m sure you can agree that suppressing me is not very patriotic of either of you. I would hate to see you both carted off to be questioned by the cops.” Fine tremors begin to quake down her hands and up her arms as she strangles the spines of her course books. “If there is any harassment going on, it’s you two against me.” She can’t say anymore, her throat constricting in her stress.

Tommy is beet red and quivering like he’s three heart beats from striking her. Carol isn’t much better but she’s also hissing like a steaming teapot with fingers curled into claws, itching to render flesh from bone. Rebekah herself is tight enough to shatter concrete, her legs trembling with the urge to _runrunrundon’tstop_. All those gathered in the hallway hold their breath, waiting anxiously for the next act of this dramatic play.

The warning bells rings, shrill and ripping through the tension. An exodus starts slow and gains speed as fear of detention and parental punishment urges the students forward in their day. Tommy and Carol seem to shake off the rage but not the irritation, both giving Rebekah shoulder shoves that in her tensed state succeed in causing her to lose her balance and her books.

Surrounded by scattered books and papers, Rebekah shivers and tries to remember what oxygen filling her lungs feels like while holding back the burning in her eyes. It had all felt too much like Before and certainly much too soon for her nerves to handle for so long.

Black boots, scuffed and well-used but not falling to pieces, stop in front of her vision. Even without looking up those blue jean clad legs to the mostly bared chest and astonishingly familiar face framed in styled curls, Rebekah would know who it was based on his gaze alone.

And it is a gaze, not a stare that leaves spider legs crawling over the back of her neck or a leer that causes toxic slugs to squirm in her gut and up her throat. Billy gazes at her with intensity, like she’s a puzzle he’s been given to solve. Normally such a look would send her packing because paranoia has kept her alive and free; her soft heart and broken soul begging to keep collateral damage down to herself and buildings, never other people. However for whatever reason, Billy gazes and Rebekah does not panic. She doesn’t preen either like the air headed housewives-to-be she has to reluctantly associate with as a gender.

It’s a little freeing and more worrying this fact that Hawkins High’s resident Bad Boy can make her feel connected to humanity.

Rebekah scrubs the tears she refused to shed and gathers up her scattered life again, ignoring how she had taken strength from the gaze of a young man she had helped once. A hand, broad and calloused, presented one of her notebooks to take. The searing warmth that spread up her arm when their fingers brushed in the transfer she ignores, merely glad her hands had stopped trembling. Neither teen says a word until everything has been gathered and clutched tight to Rebekah's chest. Only then does Rebekah allow herself to meet Billy's eyes.

His face is carefully blank though there is a hint of _something_ in his eyes. She can't understand (doesn't want) but there's a voice inside her heart whispering what Billy needs to hear. Her body is one pluck away from dissolving into a gibbering mess in a corner. More than anything, Rebekah wants to stay silent however her own words are echoing in her head and she can't, not with something this important. What little she knows of Billy, this will in all honesty go down like a lead balloon. _Crap._

“Hargrove.” Rebekah squeaks because she can't force more out yet.

“What?” Billy is confused and wary; this girl like nothing he's ever met before.

“I d-dare you to move.” This time she's a little stronger though how long that will last is anyone's guess. Especially as she watches Billy spin her words in his mouth, chewing on their meaning, cycling from confusion to anger that causes his summer sky eyes to burn and flare.

“ **What?** ” A quiet, dangerous growl. Rebekah barely holds her answering whimper in her throat unvoiced.

“I dare you to move,” she repeats because she must to get through the rest so he can _understand_ “move beyond before you look in the mirror and the face you recognize isn't your own.” finishing in a rush that has her scrambling to her feet and scurrying away before she witnesses the fallout of her words in him.

Billy remains crouched, watching her stumble away but frozen from chasing after and demanding answers on _why_ , why would she say _that_ to _him_?! And why did her words cause him to think of the night they met, all the events that led up to her bringing him home, and Neil. Billy is drenched in ice because he can picture that mirror in his room, full length and crystal clear, knows he's standing in front of it but all he sees is Neil at his worst, his most abusive with his harsh features pulled back in a ferocious snarl. He's glad there is no one to see the sob wrenched from his soul or the way Billy knows he looks absolutely terrified.

He's glad and he's horrified and he feels like he's drowning.

Billy skips school and runs because maybe if he runs far enough, he'll escape the hold of his father.

*

“Let's see Miss Perfect Prude brush _this_ off calmly.”

“Oh my god, this is totally evil.”

“You gonna back out like a pussy?”

“Hell, no. I think it's perfect. Shore won't know what hit her.”

“Exactly. That'll teach her to talk down to me!”

“We got enough copies?”

“Let's make fifty more just in case. This'll clean me out until my next allowance but its so worth every cent.”

“I can live without going out for a week. Besides, who says we have to go out to have... **fun**.”

“You thinkin' about rewarding me, Baby?”

“Maybe, if you're super good and put that bitch in her place like the handsome stud I know you are.”

“Oh ho, hell yes! C'mon let's go. We've got enough to absolutely ruin her. And I'm feeling like a little pre-show celebration.”

“Then get moving or I'll leave your ass here to explain these flyers.”

“My car, Sweetheart, which means I've got the keys. You can't leave without me.”

“I can walk.”

“In those heels? Forget it.”

“Shut up and drive, jerk.”

“You love me.”

“Yeah, I do.”

*

Life had been too quiet, too easy. Rebekah honestly should have expected these events after the altercation with Tommy and Carol. For the first week, she had been on her guard, prepared for whatever retaliation the two could cook up. Even Billy had given her space. Never let up on the soul gazing he tended to do whenever Rebekah crossed his eyesight, but he also never approached. She's not sure how she feels about his semi-avoidance. When life begins to make no sense, Rebekah employs the tried and true method of ignore unless and until its determined to bite me. Billy Hargrove definitely fell into the no-sense making category. So Rebekah went about her life as per normal and when a week passed with nothing apocalyptic happening, she allowed herself to breathe. Like a moron.

She should have stayed in bed like her gut begged from her.

Snickers were the first indication something terrible headed her way. Then the whispers behind her back by third period. Rebekah chose to believe these were merely happenstances in her presence; that some other juicy school gossip had been circulating all day and she hadn't been approached by the right person yet to soothe her curiosity.

Of course, what was she worried about? Lunch period is usually when everything dramatic happens anyway.

Every fiber of her being screamed at her not to approach the gaggle of jocks and cheerleaders at the center of the lunchroom chaos. However, Mrs. Curtis from third period History had asked Rebekah to return Emily Wagner's latest essay as it had been left behind in the rush for lunch. Emily, who happened to be in the direct center of the group, draped over Evan Conners, the track team captain, and giggling like a cheesy b-rated movie villain. Carol and Tommy cackled next to Emily and Evan.

Worry curdled bad milk style in her stomach, sapping her strength and rising chills on her body. Almost made her wish for summer sky eyes gazing at her. Rebekah could really use his strength right now.

“H-hi, Emily? Mrs. Curtis asked me to give you last week's history essay. You forgot to get it from her after class.” She didn't squeak which, great, and no one had to know how close she came. Holding out the stapled sheet papers, Rebekah locked her stare on Emily's face, not daring to allow herself to meet the hungry eyes of the hyena pack around her.

Emily Wagner, considered one of the prettier girls in the school with her blonde curls always perfectly styled and baby doll face blemish free, had some of the nastiest brown eyes. Boys who had the “honor” of dating her would say her eyes resembled squares of pure Hershey chocolate. Girls who were good enough to be called Emily's “friends”, described her eyes as warm chestnuts. Rebekah believed everyone lied because of fear. Emily had dark russet eyes with the cold unfeeling nature of space. Whether that made her worse than Tommy's and Carol's salivating glee, Rebekah couldn't decide.

With a crimson leer, Emily plucked the papers held out between two fingers, as if she believed in the span of fifteen minutes, Rebekah had imbued them with a deadly disease. “Well, thanks Sugar. I'll be sure to let Mrs. Curtis know you played fetch like a good bitch.”

Stepping back in shock, Rebekah bit her lip, unsure at the smug animosity radiating from Emily.

“I...I'm sorry?”

“Oh, don't be,” Emily dismissively waved a perfect french manicured hand. “I'm just sorry I missed such a fun party. I had no idea under all the Christian High and Mighty Prudishness, was a massive, lying _hypocrite._ ”

“Excuse me?” Rebekah felt massively wrong-footed. Emily clearly hinted at something and Rebekah had no trouble believing Carol and Tommy instigating her.

“Now, now, Sugar! Don't go giving us those innocent doe eyes.” With the way the group pulled rank around her, gazes reminiscent of predators about to gorge themselves on her carcass, Rebekah felt incredibly similar to an insect in a glass case. “If we had known what a wild cat you really are, we'd have invited you in ages ago. This is you, right?” Emily finally turned the paper Rebekah had been studiously avoiding, daintily at eye level, a triumphant smirk mockingly tinged with confusion.

Rebekah's vision tunnels on the paper held lightly in Emily's hands for all that the picture is blurry from her swelling tears. Oxygen suddenly decided to vacation in the Bahamas. Rebekah didn't blame it; she wanted to fly from this room, or sink into the floor until she hit Earth's molten core. Burn bright and brief in the manner of a Roman-Candle. Tommy and Carol howled their glee. At least, she thinks they are, certainly making the same faces they do when being especially cruel and laughing in pride. Can't hear anything over the air raid siren replacing her eardrums.

Rebekah couldn't feel what her face was doing under the tingling numbness, but based on their reaction alone it must be a dozy. If she could find her heart from its relocation somewhere in the vicinity of her toes, maybe she could care.

“Man, if I knew what type of freak Shore hid under all those sweaters and baggy jeans, I'd tap that!”

“Careful, Montgomery, no idea what kind of diseases she's carrying.”

“Might be worth the pain!”

Laughter crows, harsh shards ripping through her psyche leaving bloody furrows on her spirit. Someone had taken her yearbook photo (the only picture she allowed to be taken of her and placed anywhere public) and crudely taped it to the body of a Playboy foldout. While bad, the worst part of this cruel prank laid in the other heads taped to the foldout copy.

Jesus and his disciples taken from Leonardo da Vinci's Last Supper painting were taped to the bodies of the other models. Rebekah wanted to scream at the debasement to her Savior and His Disciples. Copper flooded her mouth when her teeth finally bit through her lip.

“Oh, look, the Christian Bitch is crying. Quick someone get her a Holy Hankie.” Carol's nasally tone simpered with false concern.

Rebekah couldn't breathe. She couldn't _breathe_.

 _Help. Please, someone, **help me**_.

Black encroaching on the edges of her vision, consuming all meager light provided in the cafeteria.

_**She'll** find me! All these...she'll **find** me! Can't let her...can't...won't...go back..._

Fire blazing through her chest, nerves alight and sensitive to every change.

Air. **Air**. _**Not here, not NOW!**_ Rebekah needs....

Dark.

Warmth.

*

Steve knew something involving Tommy and Carol was going down today. Being friends (unfortunately) for as long as he had with the two meant Steve could read the pair well. Tommy, when executing a truly malicious plan, smiled more, spoke sweeter to teachers. Carol walked with more sway to her hips, tended to curl her hair with a finger every five minutes instead of every fifteen. Seeing the signs today, Steve walked between classes with higher caution, casting his mind back over the last week for any incidents involving himself which would attract the couple's negative attention. He came up blank. Which, awesome for his state of being, but now he felt worried for whoever was their intended target.

Looking back, Steve should have known.

As it is, he's two steps behind a rampaging Nancy Wheeler and keeping pace beside Jonathan Byers. The flyers being passed around weren't for some hip party being thrown over the weekend, but a slanderous picture defaming a fellow student, one who was quiet and made sure not to cause waves. Steve had even gotten some tutoring help from Rebekah Shore once or twice over the years. She made an excellent listener, allowing Steve to rant about whatever sucked in his life at the moment, then providing some of the best advice he'd ever received. And Rebekah explained English way better than Nancy.

Steve would take that secret to the grave.

“How **warped** can you two ASSHOLES be?!” Nancy snarled, one of the many copies going around school clenched to ripping in her fist. “You get off on shit like this, don't you?!”

“Nance, calm down.”

“Yeah, Wheeler, no need to be trippin' over a stupid prank.” Laughter echoed through the silent cafeteria, all eyes trained on the drama happening in the center. Tommy and Carol ate up the attention.

“A PRANK?!”

Jonathan barely managed to grab Nancy in a bear hug before she clawed out Tommy's eyes. Which left Steve an opening to clock the snickering teen in the jaw.

“THE HELL, HARRINGTON?!” Tommy appeared fit for murder even from his position on the ground. Carol a step behind him. Emily and the rest of the high school hyenas backed enough away to not be caught in the crossfire while also maintaining prime spots to the show.

“Bite me, Tommy. I know you and Carol are behind this twisted, mental shit. I may have been King Steve, but you two were always the Enforcers.” Steve stood above the abusive bullies, fists clenching and relaxing at his sides.

“ _Plant your feet next time, Harrington. Draw a charge.”_ Even in his own head, Steve never expected to be grateful to Hargrove for his advice. Seeing the rage, knowing Tommy, Steve planted in time to keep Tommy from completely taking him down to the floor in a tackle. Feet skidding on linoleum, Steve grabbed and twisted at the hips, using Tommy's momentum to swing him away from Steve. Unfortunately this left him open to attack from Carol.

Or would have, had a blur of blue denim and blonde curls not taken her by the wrists and hip checked her into the rising Tommy.

“Someone better start explain what the **ever lovin' HELL** is with this cold-ass photo shit going around before I start sending people to the freakin' hospital.” Billy Hargrove stood beside Steve for the first time in, well, ever. And he was beyond irritated. Not even when the California native had gone crazy on his face had Steve ever seen Billy this homicidal. That night still gave Steve nightmares so this expression was terrifying.

“Tommy and Carol passed these out to the whole school, probably made them as well. Emily took it to a whole other level with those comments.” Nancy had calmed enough to explain the situation. While she may not have liked Hargrove at all, in this moment, there was a sense of kindred conviction around the fiery tempered male. And Steve would need all the help he could get taking on Tommy and Carol.

Jonathan, secure in the knowledge that Nancy wasn't about to murder someone, knelt down beside Rebekah's comatose form. Having experience with panic attacks, Jonathan attempted to bring her back while also keeping an eye out for any tumbling bodies.

Billy remained silent, pale blue eyes icy in his fury and entirely locked on the instigators. All the students in the cafeteria help their breath.

“All this, for a difference of opinion. Dude, I've seen some gnarly shit in my time, survived it too, but this....oh, this takes the freaking cake.” He speaks quietly, which is a thousand times worse than if he had screamed in rage. “We're done. I ever see any of you go near her again, you'll have me to answer too and that includes messages. No contact of any kind, am I clear?”

“Why do you care about some bible thumpin' bitch?!” Carol's indignant shriek caused many to wince. Billy didn't flinch.

“Am. I. Clear?” Steve would have folded like wet tissue under the pressure Billy put on Tommy and Carol with his presence alone.

A switch and Steve had no time to warn Billy. Tommy charged, fists poised and flying fast, screaming in outrage.

Billy dodged, cool as ice. Once. Twice. Slid behind Tommy and waited until he spun to face Billy again.

**CRACK**

A collective hiss of sympathy echoed around the room. Steve stared in shock, face mirroring almost perfectly those of Tommy and Carol in their confused stupor. Billy stared, completely deadpanned, as Tommy slowly recovered his feet.

“Did you just...bitch slap me?” Incredulity ran thick in Tommy's question.

“I did! Weird, right?” Steve prayed Billy never used that chirpy sarcastic voice on him. It gave literal chills. The bad kind, not the good kind. Of course, Billy only appeared calm. Steve could see his hands literally vibrate as the hot head showed an impressive amount of restraint. Which made Steve wonder what had been different that night a month ago. “Now, I'm only going to repeat this once so listen close: You and everyone else who collaborated in this _**prank**_ ” Billy's disdain dripped from the word “stay away from Rebekah Shore. No physical contact. No leaving messages in her locker or anywhere else she can find them. I hear about anything, and I will hear about it, I'll make what happened to Harrington's face look like a freakin' picnic compared to what I will do to whoever breaks my rule.”

In the ensuing silence, anything could be heard, including labored breathing. Steve didn't think anything of the sound at first, believing Tommy the culprit. Then Jonathan spoke. Familiar with this ice in his veins from nightmares involving inter-dimensional flower faced carnivores, Steve still never expected to feel it here without the looming threat of being eaten.

“I can't get Shore out of her panic attack! She's hyperventilating and not responding.”

Steve spun, and later wished he had never taken his eyes off Tommy and Carol. As it is, he did and for a few precious seconds sank into the scene before him: Rebekah Shore on her knees, limp and registering nothing in her sight, Jonathan's hands the only thing keeping her upright. Billy suddenly appearing, gently (gently?!) pushing Jonathan to the side as Billy took his place. Hands cupping her face, blue eyes locked on blank blue-green eyes.

“Shore, hey, wakey wakey, Seashell.” Is all Billy gets out before he's tackled into Rebekah by Tommy's charging body.

Chaos.

Steve could never pin the exact turning point of the scuffling battle. Only that somehow, Billy managed to keep Tommy's attacks from hitting Rebekah until Jonathan and Steve could slip her away from under him. After she no longer needed him, Billy fought back. Had Steve's kids been there, those that witnessed the fight between him and Billy, they would have believed Billy looked exactly the same as the night he went nuts on Steve. However, the Party is young and naïve, everything black and white. Steve watched Billy now, cradling the girl whose presence started this whole fiasco against his chest while Jonathan tried to break up the snarling duo, and realized that Billy of then felt unhinged in a way. Like he had been dealt a blow to many and finally cracked under the pressure. This Billy, however, radiated razor sharp intent. There was nothing unhinged or broken in the blows he dealt, each intending to inflict maximum damage. Billy had a mission and nothing would stand in his way.

Jonathan landed on his back after a particularly enthusiastic shove from Billy and could only watch in horror as the California transfer executed a perfect roundhouse kick to Tommy's jaw.

**CRUNCH**

Billy's boot heel decimated the bones of Tommy's jaw, leaving no one to question how utterly shattered the attack left it from where it hung awkwardly. Tommy screamed, or attempted to anyway since all he manged was sounding like a teapot whistle. Many kids screamed, teachers finally rushing onto the scene after a few students consciousness convicted them that enough was enough. Billy heard none of this, merely stood like a guard in front of Steve and Rebekah, chest heaving, bruises rapidly forming where Tommy managed to land hits. Blood trickled from his split lip and a cut above his right eyebrow, ignored until the blood threatened to obscure his eyesight.

“ **WHAT IN HEAVEN'S NAME IS GOING ON HERE?!”** Principle Howard bellowed. Cacophonous noise rose in response, every student giving their own version of the story and each extolling their innocence in the debacle.

Steve could care less. All he could focus on is the sight of Billy's back, standing tall and proud against the fury of Hawkins High faculty and student body. Once, when he was about five or six, Steve's nanny Rosa took him to her church. Strongly Catholic, with cavernous ceilings and beautiful stained glass windows, little Stevie had been entranced and intimidated in equal measure by the weighty atmosphere. One thing which stood out even all this time, was the depiction of the archangel Michael. Sword poised to strike, body dominating over his enemies, sunlight highlighting golden hair, Michael had terrified Little Stevie. Now at eighteen, seeing the real life archangel, Steve felt hope. Not for him, but for Rebekah, who had never deserved what Tommy and Carol did today.

Relief surged through Steve's limbs, sapping his remaining adrenaline fueled strength. Collapsing backwards, Steve chuckled quietly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Rebekah's head. She had passed out finally, her body giving in to the need to rest and recuperate, sometime between Jonathan alerting them and Billy being pummeled over her body.

“Got your own personal guardian angel, huh, Shore? Can't say I envy you. Hargrove's difficult to deal with normally. Wish you all the luck.” Wincing as Billy squared off against Principle Howard and Carol, the spiteful witch attempting to pin everything on Hawkins High's resident Bad Boy. Steve felt physically ill when Emily and her entourage backed up Carol. Steve sneered at their fake fake FAKE simpering.

“Principle Howard!” Steve is positive the only reason he isn't roasted where he sits is because of Rebekah. But, despite Hargrove being a completely psychotic asshole, the guy had stood up against Tommy and Carol, had shielded Rebekah even though Steve is ninety-five percent sure they've never interacted. Which is the only reason Steve could give himself regarding why he spoke. “Tommy and Carol were passing out those photos. Billy didn't get to school until third period. Emily and the rest escalated the events by harassing Rebekah.”

Principle Anthony Howard, a stocky older gentleman and Vietnam veteran, considered himself a fair man. As the Principle of Hawkins High School, his job meant ensuring the students passing through his doors excelled, not just in academics, but also life. However, the army had beaten out any naivete in life being fair. Life, Fate, Karma, whatever kids believed these days, Anthony could care less; what mattered is how a person took their circumstances and ran with the hand dealt them. Good or bad, Anthony believed it was the choices of the individual which governed how a person's life ended. William 'Billy' Hargrove had been dealt a shitty hand in his short life. Anyone with eyes and a clear mind could decipher the signs: bruises and injuries that supposedly came from playground fights though the amount of said fights were recorded far less than the how often the injuries showed up; slow and gradual personality change from a bright, happy boy to a hair trigger temper and steadily growing disregard for authority. Anthony was no stranger to abuse, which made him a perfect candidate to spot those whom suffered once they stepped into his care. This did not, however, make it easier for him to help these students. Unless they came to him for help, all he could do was provide them a safe haven within these walls. Bullying, therefore, was not tolerated within the halls of Hawkins High. Due to how strict he was regarding this rule, students had learned to make sure any bullying occurred outside of school or in situations where less strict teachers (while not many, unfortunately, the teaching pool is terrible resulting in some teachers whom believed that bullying built character so would do nothing if they saw such events occurring, even going so far as to place blame on the victim. Anthony would fire those particular teachers if he had more options) would push the incident aside as teens being teens.

Thomas Hall and Carol Doyle were some of the worst students at Hawkins High. Both academically and personality wise, the duo had been in his office multiple times since their start because they had been caught bullying, cheating, or simply slacking off. If he could have, Anthony would have expelled them ages ago. Unfortunately, a large portion of the schools budget came from the donation their parents made and one of the stipulations to continued funding was their children's high school education being completed, no matter what happened. Anthony did what he could, suspending them helped a little at first, until he assumed their parents told them about the stipulation and rightfully assumed they wouldn't be expelled. After that, it didn't matter how often he suspended them, Thomas and Carol got worse in retaliation. This incident, however, is the absolute last straw. If Steven Harrington was telling the truth. A year ago, Anthony may not have believed the youth. Since Will Byers disappearance, Anthony has witnessed a change in young Steve, a growth and maturity he had been beginning to believe would never come. Since dating Nancy Wheeler (student gossip is the best way to find out information and an incredible source of amusement when the gossipers jumped out of their skins when they realized he was listening) and subsequently breaking up with her, Steve Harrington had grown exponentially, to the point where he basically adopted a group of tweens. Anthony Howard couldn't be prouder of the boy.

“Is this true, Mr. Hargrove?” _Please answer, son. I can't do anything unless you speak up._

Ice blue eyes flared in defensive anger. Lips thinned as the blonde haired boy clenched his jaw, visibly debating and calculating his chances.

Billy tsked, arms folded and shifting his weight to a more nonchalant stance, looking for all the world like he didn't give a rip how Principle Howard or the teachers would take his answer.

“My sister came down with some nasty 24-hour bug. Our folks have work today so I'm stuck taking care of her and making sure she doesn't asphyxiate on her own puke.” it must have been painful to roll his eyes that hard “I finally got her knocked out on the couch and decided to pick up any homework we would have at the end of the day. My old man is a stickler for our education.” By the amount of sarcasm in his tone, no one could assume Mr. Hargrove actually cared, more Billy desperately needed out of the house for a few minutes and this was the only way he could explain to his father.

“Can we confirm this with your parents?” Principle Howard asked.

Billy shrugged with a careless nod. “Do what you want, but the old man ain't gonna be happy if you disturb him at work. Better try Susan first.”

“I can back up Steve's knowledge of Hargrove arriving by third period. His car wasn't here when Jonathan and I got to school this morning; Hargrove usually gets here around the same time we do.” Nancy spoke up, ignoring the glares everyone but Billy sent her; matching Billy's glare with one of her own explicitly stating in no uncertain terms that she was only speaking up because of Steve.

“Mr. Byers?”

Jonathan blushed, ducking his head a little but speaking clearly despite the obvious discomfort in being put on the spot. “Yes, Sir. Nancy's correct. I was actually on my way to deliver some paperwork from Mrs. Green to Mr. Harris when I saw Billy first come to school today, which was about the middle of Third Period English for me.”

Based on the reactions of those close enough to hear, that is the most anyone had heard Jonathan Byers speak. Even Tommy had quieted a tiny bit from his constant groaning and screaming.

Before Principle Howard could reply, one of the freshman students forced her way through the crowd until she stopped in front of him.

“Principle Howard, Miss Amelia says the ambulance will be here in ten minutes!”

“Thank you, Miss Johnston. Mr. Byers, Mr. Harrington, Mr. Connors, Mr. Montgomery, Miss Wheeler, Miss Wagner, Miss Doyle, you WILL report to my office after school. Failure to appear will result in immediate suspension. As it is, Mr. Connors, Mr. Montgomery, Miss Wagner, and Miss Doyle will collect **EVERY. SINGLE. PHOTO** you've distributed around my school and bring them to my office for proper disposal. Afterwards, you will each be handed a note to give to your teachers to receive an automatic fail for the day. I _WILL_ know if you do not. Mr. Hall will report to me the moment he next steps foot on school grounds. While a broken jaw is quite a sufficient punishment, that does not excuse him from MY duties. I will be informing his parents of his required presence in my office once the hospital has deemed him well enough.” There is a reason Principle Howard is never crossed and it could always be seen in his eyes: the deadly promise of a man who has killed and would not hesitate to do so again. Despite the fierce fury in the delinquent teenagers eyes, they didn't protest. “Mr. Hargrove, I want to see YOU in my office tomorrow morning. As for the rest of you...” Students began to scramble as Principle Howard gaze traveled around the room. Soon the entire lunch room emptied leaving only the main instigators, protectors, victim, and faculty still inside. “Well, I guess I don't have to tell them to get to class now.”

No one joined Principle Howard in laughing at the lame joke.

*

“Mr. Hargrove, a moment, please.” Anthony waited until the paramedics had bundled Mr. Hall and Miss Shore into separate ambulances, keeping a firm hand on Miss Doyle's shoulder to prevent her from wriggling her way into the ambulance with her boyfriend and therefore out of having to collect their....art project.

There was no acknowledgment from the addressed teen until the ambulance carrying Miss Shore had turned the corner out of sight. Only then did pale blue eyes lock with forest green. Principle Howard released Carol's shoulder with a stern warning to collect the photos as instructed, spinning the keys to Tommy's car around his fingers a few times to show the surprised teenage girl that escaping would be harder than she hoped. A quiet chuckle escaped Anthony Howard's current enigma of a student when Carol still fruitlessly patted down her pockets where she had placed the keys, probably hoping the principle was playing some trick. Not a trick but definitely a weirdly useful skill picked up during his army days.

The others of his squad (those alive anyway) would have gotten a kick at how he used their lessons.

William Hargrove had an astounding poker face.“What?” And little patience apparently.

Anthony would laugh at how similar the young teen was to himself at William's age. However, laughing would not relieve the tension currently knotting up William's shoulders. In lieu of laughing, Anthony removed his glasses to polish the lens as well as give him a chance to collect his thoughts.

“Would you like me to send you an update on Miss Shore's condition?”

Clearly that was NOT what young Mr. Hargrove expected to be asked. Pale eyes bored into Anthony's face, searching for truth or deception, jaw moving as the boy chewed on his tongue.

“Wouldn't that be a job for her guardian? Why does some hick town principle get updates on her health?” Absent is the normal derision often found in William's voice. Now is a time for cautious prodding and information gathering. With a slight grin, Anthony nodded. There was a brain under the ridiculous mullet.

“Normally yes. However, in this case,” grin growing bigger, Anthony relished in the surprise coming “I am Rebekah Shore's legal guardian.”

Ah, a youthful upstart reduced to spluttering from wrongfully inhaled air out of surprise. Priceless!

“THE FU-”

“Language, young man.” Anthony warned sternly. William wasn't happy, obviously, but he settled down enough that he no longer appeared on the verge of an apocalyptic meltdown. Accepting the unspoken compromise, Anthony sighed, weary to his bones as one large life-scarred hand rubbed at tense muscles in his neck. “I can't share the details as they aren't mine to pass on. If you want to hear the circumstances, you will have to take it up with Rebekah.”

William snorted, clearly fed up with half answers. “What can you tell me then?”

“I can tell you when she wakes up and what her condition is after she's been evaluated.” Anthony chuckled, a small spark of true humor emerging from the exhaustion of the events. “I can tell you that she's mentioned you once or twice. You puzzle her, Kid.”

“ **I** puzzle _her?!_ I call bullshit. Shore is a damn enigma and its driving **me** SPARE!” Clutching at product stiff curls with a truly ferocious snarl, William Hargrove appeared the penultimate picture of confused frustration. Anthony watched amused as the boy paced back and forth in ever growing ire, mumbled curses and half sentences spilling magma hot under his breath. All things must end however and there is still more Anthony wishes to get across to his student.

“Mutual puzzles then. In all the time I've known her, Rebekah never mentions a fellow student the way she does with you. Mr. Harrington is the only other one and even his mentions are different. AH! Don't go blowing your top, Mr. Hargrove. I know all about the rivalry/hatred/what-have-you between the pair of you. Rebekah tutored Mr. Harrington in English last year.” ancient aches twinge every time he breathed deeply, but darn, teenagers drive him up the wall sometimes. “Look William, for whatever reason, you've caught Rebekah's attention which, speaking from experience, is practically impossible to do without going up an incredibly steep mountain. All I am asking from you is to not break her. I believe you have some great potential hidden behind the mullet and attitude. Rebekah sees what I do: you aren't your old man, but you will be without jumping some serious tracks first. I can only give you the tools; it's up to you how you'll use them.”

For an eternal moment the world fell silent in the face of two men, one young and lost in caged rage, the other world weary and older than his wrinkles suggest. Sweat beaded on flushed skin despite the icy chill of Indiana winter, pale December sun and raging emotions enough to counter the snowy wind. A dragon's puff of steam and crystalline eyes deflated, anger draining away as William lost the battle. Anthony watched on as William lost the hard edge in his shoulders, spine bending underneath the weight of his father's shadow and the boy's own guilt.

“H-how,” William cleared his throat, a tiny sniffle going unacknowledged, “how can I...?” He couldn't finish. There were too many thoughts pin-balling through his head; too many emotions with a vice grip around his neck. The riptide has him like his mom warned him to beware of all those years ago.

Knowing that any attempt at physical contact would be rejected, Anthony instead held his hand out and made sure to keep his eyes trained on the down turned face before him.

“You've taken the first step, William. Acknowledging that there is a problem within yourself. It's the hardest step, truly, and the next step will match it in difficulty, but this is my promise to you-” he waited until William tentatively glanced up through suspiciously wet lashes, watery blue meeting warm emerald “With every hard step you take, you've achieved a victory. You've beaten back the precedent placed upon you and have crawled your way to where YOU want to be; no one can take that from you, William. And, if you like, there can be others to help support you in this journey. Rebekah may not have extended her hand yet physically, but I know her quite well by this point and she would be more than happy to help. As am I. In whatever capacity you need, I offer my assistance.”

Confusion, fear, and quietly suffered agony laid prominent on young features. Such an expression broke the scarred heart beating within the veteran. Had no one offered a hand of help the boy?! Or, even worse, had help been offered only to be ripped away with words of false platitude? A pit settled cold and heavy in Anthony's gut as his memories whispered their truths. Truly, William Hargrove resembled Anthony incredibly at his age, which made this a delicate situation of utmost importance.

Spine straight, shoulders back, every inch the military leader he had been once, Anthony fixed his eyes on William's own gaze and let the broken boy see _everything_. Trust had to be earned; there could not be any barriers between them if William would ever be able to open up to Anthony.

William's blue eyes fluttered hummingbird-quick over Anthony's face, calculating what they saw and matching them with emotions.

Conviction.

Promise.

Sincerity.

Wrath but not towards him.

Care.

Tears spilled and blurred everything else, heat blossoming through his veins as William shattered. No sound louder than a strangled whimper escaped the teen as he sobbed in front of his principle, arms wrapping around his stomach and body curling inwards as if to protect vital organs from cruel blows.

Anthony turned his face away, giving his student a semblance of privacy even as the corners of his own eyes burned. There was nothing more he wanted to do than bundle the boy into a hug before leaving him in the tender care of Rebekah before storming the Hargrove household and laying waste to the piece of crap masquerading as a human father. As it is, he could do neither however, spotting an approaching figure, he could prevent William's pride from suffering a hit when he was currently vulnerable emotionally. A quick, calm grip to a shuddering shoulder, and Anthony confidently strode with mile eating strides to intercept the approaching teen.

“Ah, Mr. Harrington!” a cheerfully loud tone and bright smile managed to snag Steve Harrington's attention enough that he didn't get a chance to truly examine his rival/bully in the background.

“I, uh, got what you asked for, Sir.” Chest heaving from the slight run between the middle school and high school, Steve handed his principle the thick packets of paper, hazel eyes continuously darting to the hunched figure a little ways away. If Steve hadn't made it a point to be able to recognize Billy subconsciously (for safety purposes), he wouldn't have pegged the boy he saw now with the confident young teen he knew.

**Author's Note:**

> I know how abrupt the ending is. That's just where this drabble/ scene ends in my word document. I'm more than likely going to have something very similar in the rewrite when I get to it. It's also unedited so please excuse the roughness!
> 
> The title is from a movie by the same name and I definitely recommend watching it!
> 
> Love you all and thanks for reading!


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